


it's the rush with the windows down

by holographiccs



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Road Trips, at least according to dream, letting someone sleep whilst you drive is the epitome of romance, long-suffering best friend sapnap, no beta we die like george in manhunt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holographiccs/pseuds/holographiccs
Summary: You’re gonna die,” Dream says. Unhelpful, George thinks as he glares towards the screen Dream’s voice is coming from.“I’m not going to die.”“Bet,” Dream says.George pauses and leans away from his keyboard. “What you offering?”Dream hums. “If you make the jump, I’ll pay for your flight over here?”“I -” George stops. “You’ll do what?”-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------a stupid (failed) bet leads to a road trip with Dream that George isn't sure his heart can survive
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 98
Kudos: 383





	1. i'm just with my friends online

**Author's Note:**

> uhh hi? this is my first time posting dnf, so i hope i did them justice
> 
> these characters are inspired by dream and george's online personas, but they are very much my own versions of those people. i am in no way suggesting anything about the people in real life, they're just fun to write about
> 
> dream and george have both currently said that this is ok, if at any point either of their stances change, i will delete this work <3
> 
> i also promise that later chapters will have less dialogue
> 
> fic title from: westfalia - andy kong  
> chapter title: love me - the 1975

“Dream’s here now, chat,” George says with a grin as the _TeamSpeak_ call connects with a _ping._ He can’t help the way his voice goes soft as he adds, “Hi, Dream.”

“Hey, George,” Dream’s voice comes instantly. “Hey, chat!”

George grins again as his chat explodes with greetings. “Chat misses you, Dream.”

“I miss them too!” Dream replies immediately. _He really does have a great relationship with his audience_ , George thinks, trying not to let it show on his face too obviously. He racks his brain for something to add, but then a donation comes through that makes him laugh.

“Jynago says that if you miss them so much, you should stream more.”

Dream laughs, “Ouch, man, that’s just harsh.”

“True though,” George replies, a laugh colouring his own voice. “They know you too well.”

“They really do.”

With nothing to add to that, George focuses on the jump he’s attempting. It really shouldn’t be beyond him, but he can’t seem to time it right.

“You’re gonna die,” Dream says. _Unhelpful,_ George thinks as he glares towards the screen Dream’s voice is coming from.

“I’m not going to die.”

“Bet,” Dream says.

George pauses and leans away from his keyboard. “What you offering?”

Dream hums. “If you make the jump, I’ll pay for your flight over here?”

“I -” George stops. “You’ll do _what_?”

Dream laughs. Chat is going mental, George is sure of it, but he can’t bring himself to even look. He can feel his hands starting to shake, so he ducks them out of sight under the desk. It’s not that they haven’t joked about it before, it’s just that this feels more real than it ever has.

"Go on then, get booking," George says with a smirk towards his second monitor. Dream's camera is turned off, but even without the visual cue, George knows exactly what he looks like right now. Smug. Stupid. Proud of himself. He forces himself to sound the same when he adds, "Because I'm not dying."

"You're so dying."

"Shut up!" George shifts his mouse and then hits the key with a satisfying click. His character on the screen jumps and -

Misses.

Fuck.

He watches as the words 'You Died' flash up on his screen. Dream's laugh comes through loud and just the wrong side of obnoxious. George can hardly bear to check his chat - he just knows that they'll be spamming something dumb. A dono catches his eye: hahaha GeorgeNotFound canon death everybody??

He rolls his eyes at the camera then shrugs. "Guess I'm not going to Florida then, guys. Sad times."

Dream laughs again. "Knew you were gonna die."

"Yes, thank you Dream," George replies. "Your commentary is unnecessary."

He hears a _ping_ from _TeamSpeak_ and glances over to see a message from Dream. Narrowing his eyes, he opens it. It takes a second to work out what the photo actually _is_ , but once he does he can't hold back the delighted gasp.

"But I lost!" he says, a grin on his face.

"Yeah, but you looked so cute doing it that I couldn't stop myself."

"You're an idiot." There's no heat to the words though and the grin is still firmly on George's face. "Guess what guys! Dream's a massive simp and just bought me a plane ticket even though I lost. Everybody point and laugh at him."

"Why do I do anything nice for you again?"

"Duh," George laughs, "because you're a simp."

Not long after, George says goodbye to chat and ends his stream. Once he's sure it's all switched off, he turns his chair towards the second monitor and narrows his eyes again.

"Dream, switch to _Discord_."

The _TeamSpeak_ call disconnects followed by the familiar _bing_ from _Discord._

"Now turn your camera on."

After a second, the screen flickers as Dream comes into focus. He looks slightly sheepish, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he glances everywhere but at the camera.

"I'm not mad," George says finally. Dream's shoulder relax as he drops his hand back into his lap and blinks a couple times. "You're just, insufferable."

"In a good way?" Dream flutters his eyelashes dramatically and George can't help but laugh.

"In the best way." It's slightly too soft, really, he shouldn't be saying things like that. Especially not when Dream can see his face, but he's sort of addicted to the way Dream's eyes light up.

“Wow, Georgie,” Dream says around a laugh. “Don’t talk like that, people might think you’re gay.”

George rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”

He thinks it’s kinda nice and kinda dumb that his sexuality is often the butt of Dream’s jokes, but never in a mean way. He’s not sure he’s ever met a straight man so willing to act gay for the meme. And it doesn’t always feel like that, sometimes it feels like Dream is just _like_ that. And other times? Well, George can’t think about those times. Not if he wants to stay sane.

“You’re really coming,” Dream says and he sounds so gentle that George can’t even bring himself to mock him. “Like, you’re actually going to be here. Like, in real life.”

“That’s sorta the point, Dreamie,” he replies. It’s mocking enough that it seems normal, but maybe a touch softer than George normally is with him. Or anyone for that matter. Softness never has come easily for him.

“Your flight’s in two weeks,” Dream says, like George hasn’t already memorised the date on the ticket. “In two weeks, you’re going to be here. In Florida. With me. Like actual real life you and actual real life me, in the same fucking country. In the same fucking room.”

“Again, Dreams, that’s sort of the point.”

“Stop bullying me, Georgie,” Dream whines. George grins and leans back in his chair. Dream’s blonde-brown hair falls over his forehead as he moves his face towards the camera and pouts. “I’m fragile right now.”

 _God, he really is unfairly pretty._ George tries to ignore the thought that fills his head. _No, straight boy. No more falling for straight boys. Not again._ He shakes his head and tries to concentrate on what Dream is saying.

“Two weeks, George, then I get to hug you for real.”

The words bury into his skull and make a home there.

“You want to hug me?” he asks, his voice breathy and embarrassingly soft.

“I want to hug you so tight you can’t breathe.”


	2. collapse into my arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two weeks after the bet is made, george finally gets that hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: i love you, i love you. it's disgusting - broadside
> 
> enjoy xo

George hates airports. Even though he knows exactly where he needs to go, they always make him feel stressed. And this time is even worse than normal, because somewhere on the other side of the _Arrivals_ bay is Dream. George drags a hand through his hair and rights his suitcase. The stupid bloody thing won’t stay on its wheels properly, and keeps making desperate efforts to roll over like a dog. _This is why I’m a cat person,_ George thinks with a huff as he rights the suitcase a third time in as many minutes.

The crowd pushes around George and drives him forwards. He had been hoping for a little longer to panic, but the doorway approaches more rapidly than he’s expecting. He’s only about ten steps away from the _Arrivals_ bay. Dream is already here, on the other side of those doors. George knows because Dream’s been blowing up his phone ever since he landed.

This isn’t really what George had been hoping for the first time he met Dream - the airport is loud and busy and his t-shirt is sticking to his back even though Dream said that it was only sort of warm. _So he’s a dirty liar, that’s good to know,_ George thinks as he rights his suitcase yet again and pushes through the door to _Arrivals._

Someone yells his name and for a single, horrible second, George thinks that he’s going to have to engage _‘streamer mode’._ That is, until he recognises the voice from a hundred streams and even more late night phone calls. He whirls around to spot him standing a little way from the crowds, leaning against a white pillar. Looking stupidly cool with a grin on his freckled face. His iconic yellow-green hoodie is zipped up halfway and his hands are tucked in the front pocket.

Dream.

_Fuck,_ George thinks, _he’s even prettier in person._

He’s barely taken a step before he’s swept into a hug, suitcase abandoned as his feet lift from the floor; his arms flung around Dream’s neck. They spin in a tight circle and George can’t hide his delighted laugh. He ducks his face into Dream’s neck, but the sound escapes anyway. After a few more spins, Dream lowers him back to the floor and tangles his fingers into the sides of George’s blue t-shirt.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he says and his voice is full of - Something. George can’t tell what.

“I can’t believe you did _that_ ,” he replies. His voice is full of the same something. Or maybe not quite the same - George’s is a mix of disbelief and affection and that awful, dangerous feeling that he refuses to name.

“I said I was gonna hug you so tight you couldn’t breathe.” Dream grins and squeezes George’s t-shirt between his fingers. The sound and heat of the airport seems to disappear as George leans back to look up at him.

“Pretty sure I’m still breathing,” he says, just because he can and because he knows it’ll make Dream do -

“Oh, are you?” he drawls.

_That._

George nods, but he can feel his face flushing. Dream tugs on the t-shirt until George gives in and lets himself be pulled forwards. Dream’s hands slide from George’s waist to his back and, when he spreads his fingers, almost all of George’s back is covered. _God, he’s so tall and so big and -_ He cuts that thought off before it can get its teeth in.

“You gotta hug me back, Georgie,” Dream murmurs, his mouth hovering somewhere near George’s ear. He lets out a semi-breathless laugh and lifts his arms to wrap around Dream’s shoulders. They’re broader than the baggy hoodie makes them look. Broader than he thought they would be. Broader than they have any right being.

His thoughts come to a halt as Dream's hands press harder against his back and pull him close. Without even trying, he finds himself melting into Dream's chest, his face buried in the folds of that stupid iconic hoodie. His hair ruffles in Dream's outbreath. It's soft and gentle and perfect and -

Dream squeezes. His arms wind around George's waist like a vice and he laughs as George lets out a rush of breath all at once.

"You breathless yet?" Dream murmurs through the softest laugh George has ever heard. _God he's even more lethal in person,_ he thinks as the tips of his fingers brush against the warm skin of Dream's neck.

Yes, is the answer. George is utterly breathless. But Dream didn't need to hug him, a smile would have been enough to do that. Dream's sheer _presence_ would have been enough to do that.

All too soon, Dream pulls away, his hands resting lightly on George's sides instead of the crushing grip around his waist. George's hands fall from Dream's shoulders, bumping into Dream's own where they’re resting just above George’s hips. A spark zings up his arms at the contact.

All too casually, Dream asks, "Wanna head back then?"

No, not really. Because that means letting go. That means not having Dream's hands on him anymore. That means accepting the hug as part of this stupid bit they keep doing. This stupid bit that George is all kinds of sick of.

He doesn’t say any of that though. Instead, he just nods and steps out of the circle of Dream’s arms. “Yeah, sure, can’t wait to see where the famous Dream lives.”

Dream rolls his eyes and tuts. “It’s not anything special, dude.”

“Even so.” George grabs his suitcase from where he’d abandoned it and looks for the sign for the exit. Without a word, the suitcase is pulled away from him. He glances across as Dream kicks it onto its wheels and says, “You don’t have to take it. I’m alright, I -”

“You’re my guest, dude.” Dream slings his free arm over George’s shoulders and pulls him against his side. George can’t help that he melts a little, but Dream just carries on like nothing’s happened, “Just accept it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we do be getting somewhere tho - hope you enjoyed and i will try and post the next chapter soon xo


	3. i was hanging with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george gets a tour, a cat cuddle and a realisation that maybe three weeks is too long to spend with just dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: falling for u - peachy!
> 
> enjoy xo

It doesn’t take long for them to reach Dream’s car. Dream loads George’s suitcase into the boot -  _ trunk,  _ George corrects himself,  _ in this godforsaken country _ \- then pulls open the passenger door.

“You alright?” he asks, nudging George’s hip with his own. With a hum, George nods and ducks around him into the car.

“I’m good, Dream, promise,” he replies as he sinks into the seat. “It’s all just, a lot, you know?”

As Dream slips into the driver’s seat, he drags a hand through his hair and says, “What is? The flight? Or -”

“Being here.”

The words spill out of him without his permission. Dream stops, cutting himself off as his hands grip the steering wheel.

“Not in a bad way,” George lets out in a rush, his face flushed. “Just in a - a way. It’s just a lot, Dream. Being here is a lot. Seeing you in real life is a lot.”

Dream nods and looks back over his shoulder to reverse out of the car park. One of George's mates from uni always said that watching her boyfriend drive was one of the most attractive things she'd ever seen. He'd never understood it before. But now, as he watches the muscles in Dream's forearm shift as he drives, he thinks he understands a little more. The thought makes him blush, so he looks away and fiddles with the radio just to have something to do with his hands.

"It's only an hour or so drive," Dream says into the quiet of the car. George gives up on the radio when he can't find a station playing anything but Top 40. "But you can sleep if you need to."

"I'm all right, Dream," George says, glancing over at him. "Don’t worry so much."

Dream’s right, it can’t be any more than an hour before they pull off the road onto a paved driveway. As Dream rolls the car to a stop, George blinks rapidly at the house rising up in front of him. He has to crane his neck to fit the whole thing in his view through the front window of the car. The sun glints off the high white walls and makes the wide bay windows dazzle.

“Not anything fucking special?” He twists in his seat to glare at Dream. The idiot is just grinning at him, hand on the car door, ready to duck out.

“Like it?” he asks with a nod towards the house.

George rolls his eyes. “It’s gorgeous, Dream, obviously.”

“Want a tour?” he asks, the excitement obvious in his voice. It’s at times like this, with a dopey grin on his face and the sunlight bouncing off his dirty blond hair, that Dream reminds George the most of a Labrador. Or maybe a Golden Retriever. Something big and slightly stupid, but unbearably loveable.

_ You’re here for three weeks, mister,  _ says the voice in the back of his head.  _ Don’t you dare fall in love with him.  _ With a small shake of his head, George forces the voice to shut up.

“Yeah, I’ll dump my bag first then you can show me round,” he replies out loud. “What d’you think?”

“I have an even better idea.” Dream’s grin gets even wider.  _ Didn’t know that was even possible,  _ George thinks as he takes in the dimples on both Dream’s cheeks, the freckles scattered across his skin, the tiny cracks in his full bottom lip.  _ Holy shit, he’s pretty in real life. _

By the time he’s turned his brain the right way up, Dream already has the driver’s side open and George’s suitcase in his hand. As George reaches for his own door, Dream pulls it open from the outside.

“Wait here,” he says before hurrying up to the door and unlocking it easily.

George tips his head back and draws in a deep breath. Even with the air conditioning, the air inside the car is stuffy and thick around him. It’s not exactly what he’d hoped for when he thought about seeing Dream for the first time. He’d imagined picking  _ Dream  _ up from the airport in London, wearing a collared shirt and a jumper, looking put-together and - hopefully - even attractive. But instead, here he is - t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back and sweat leaving his fringe wet against his forehead.

He looks a mess, basically. Feels like one too. It had sounded like an absolute dream to start with - a full three weeks with one of his best friends in the entire world. But he’s been here for less than two hours and he’s already made a fool of himself. And it’s so much harder to pretend that Dream is just a mate in-person. That dumb, Golden Retriever smile is  _ lethal  _ in real life.

A hand pulling the car door open pulls George out of his thoughts.

“You ready?” Dream asks, that grin firmly in place.  _ God,  _ George thinks as he pushes his hair off his face.  _ It doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere any time soon.  _ Instead, he just nods and swings his legs out the car.

“Sure am,” he says with a wonky smile of his own. “Give me the full tour of your bachelor pad.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Dream laughs and slings his arm over George’s shoulders as soon as he steps out the car.  _ He’s got nice arms.  _ George shakes his head to banish the thought, but it’s hard to do when said arm is draped right next to his face. He can’t stop himself from shifting his eyes to catch a glimpse of tanned skin and scattered freckles.

George’s attention is focused on Dream so they reach the front door before he even realises that they’re moving. The arm around his shoulders slips away as Dream pushes the door open and steps into the entryway.

“Welcome to my not-so-humble abode,” he says, that bright grin turning easily to a wicked smirk. George lets out a quick huff of air that’s almost a laugh.

“Show off,” he replies as he ducks under Dream’s arm into the house. He stops when he comes into the kitchen. The clean white countertops and tall metal barstools are the first things to catch his eye. He can’t stop himself from adding, “It looks like a show home.”

Dream flushes and looks away as he mumbles his reply, “I tidied up a bit, that’s all.”

It doesn’t take him long to recover though; he grabs George’s wrist and drags him through the kitchen into the next room. George tries to ignore the feel of Dream’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, but it doesn’t work. The warmth and the callouses pressing into his skin make it impossible to ignore.

“So, this is the living room,” Dream says as George takes in the large, squashy sofas and even larger bean bags. What really catches his eye though, is the cat tree tucked into one corner.

“Where’s Patches?” he asks in a rush. He’d almost forgotten about the little cat in all his panicking. Dream shoots him a grin then calls her name gently. After a few seconds, she comes skittering into the room, slipping slightly on the polished wood of the corridor.

“There she is,” Dream coos as he holds one hand out to her. His other hand is still wrapped around George’s wrist. Dream doesn’t let go as he sinks to the floor, but his grip does slip from George’s wrist to curl gently around his fingers. It’s too much for George to pretend to ignore, but Dream doesn’t even seem to have noticed. He just tips his face up to grin up at George before turning back to the grey tabby and coaxing her over. “Yes, there you are, aren’t you, my lovely girl? Pretty little kitty.”

After a few seconds of fussing with her, he tugs on the hand wrapped around George’s and says, “Come say hi.”

It’s so soft that George can’t help himself from sinking down next to him. Dream squeezes his hand once and then lets it drop, going back to stroking Patches.

“Give her a stroke,” he says gently, nudging George with his shoulder. “Under her chin.”

“Yeah?” George replies. He knows his voice sounds stupid and breathy, but he can’t help it. He’d been right in the car. It’s just  _ a lot.  _ Everything about being here is a lot. Everything about  _ Dream  _ is a lot. With a tiny shake of his head, he reaches out and tickles Patches under her chin. She butts her head against his palm. He laughs and says delightedly, “She likes me!”

“Of course she does,” Dream says, his voice soft as he half-leans into George. “It’s impossible not to.”

George pulls away like he’s been burnt, putting space between them and focusing on the feel of Patches’s fur under his hand. He knows that Dream is joking. His jokes are always like that, it’s no different to anything on stream, but it hits harder in real life. And it’s so much harder to hide his reactions. The stupid flush and the clamminess of his hands and -

“You wanna see the rest of the house?” Dream cuts off George’s thoughts with his quick question.

Without looking over, George nods, his hand still stroking over Patches’s head gently. Dream gets up first, offering his hand out with a grin.  _ I shouldn’t,  _ George thinks even as he slips his own hand into Dream’s and lets himself be pulled easily up from the floor like it’s nothing. The reminder of how much bigger Dream is than him sends a sharp shiver down his spine. But that’s not something he has the space to think about right now.

Dream drags him down a corridor and into a large, open room with soundproofing on every wall and his setup tucked up against one wall. “So this is my recording room, obviously. What d’you think?”

“I think,” George says, his eyes catching on something in particular, partially obscured by a pile of other equipment. “I wanna know why you have a camera hidden away.”

Dream shoots him a grin and says, “That is for me to know and for you to find out.”

“What the hell do you have planned?” George laughs. “I had to wait forever for a Dream face reveal and these bitches are gonna get it for free after less than a year? Damn, I thought I mattered to you.”

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” It’s soft though and the grin is still firmly on Dream’s face. It doesn’t take long for Dream to drag him around the rest of the house - he hasn’t gotten around to filling all the rooms yet - and they end in the guest bedroom that is George’s home for the next three weeks.

He looks around the room, taking it all in. The dark blue curtains with constellation patterns. The matching dark blue sheet on the bed. A sturdy-looking chest of drawers that Dream has put his bag on top of. Just like the rest of the house, it looks like it belongs to a real-life adult and George is struck again by just how grown-up his best friend is. George might be the older of the two, but Dream really has his life together.

“Do you like it?” Dream asks as he bounces on the soles of his feet. Watching him bounce and tap his fingertips against this thigh, George feels his shoulders relax. This is  _ Dream,  _ his best friend in the whole world and a massive loser. No amount of matching curtains and sheets will ever overcome the fact that he plays  _ Minecraft  _ for a living.

George throws himself backwards onto the bed, messing up the carefully placed sheet. He lifts his head just enough to shoot Dream a grin and says, “I love it.”

In a moment of stupid bravery, he holds out his arms. “Come join me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to everyone that has given kudos or commented - i <3 u
> 
> the rest of you - i still <3 u but you're on thin ice /j


	4. i hate the beach but i stand in florida with my toes in the sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it wouldn't be a dnf florida visit fic without a beach scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: sweater weather - the neighbourhood (edited slightly, obviously) xo

The very brief cuddle - that dissolved quickly into a pillow fight - was followed by a stack of oven pizzas and an early night for George. He’d thought, given his already-fucked sleep schedule, that jet-lag wouldn’t affect him too much. He’d been wrong.

The sun is already high in the sky when he wakes up. Despite the light streaming through the gap in the curtains, it takes all his mental energy to drag himself out of bed and into the living room. Dream is lying on his stomach on the floor, playing with Patches. He looks up as George walks in, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Hi Georgie,” he says with a small smile, tucking one hand under his chin to balance. “You wanna do something? Or get some food or -”

“Can we go to the beach?” George cuts in. Dream shifts into a sitting position and nods, wrapping long arms around his legs as he looks up at George.

“Sure,” he replies, “whatever you want.”

It’s almost too much for George to handle - Dream’s voice all soft and oh-so gentle. He sounds like he really means it. Like George really  _ could  _ ask for anything. And he’d get it.  _ Anything?  _ the voice in the back of his head pipes up.  _ Really, really anything?  _

With a sharp shake of his head to vanish the thought, George gestures back towards his room and says, “I’m gonna go get ready then.”

“Sure,” Dream says again as he rises languidly from the floor, stretching his arms above his head until his white t-shirt rides up. “You wanna swim or what?”

Swim? In the sea? With Dream? In nothing but swimming trunks?  _ Dream  _ in nothing but swimming trunks? His broad shoulders and chest bare, the tanned skin turned gold in the afternoon sun, smiling and laughing and -

“Nah,” George says quickly as he tries to ignore the thoughts in his head. “Maybe we could just paddle?”

“Oooh, we could just paddle!” Dream teases, doing an awful attempt at imitating George’s British accent.

“I literally don’t sound like that,” George says with a glare as he heads back to his room. The room he's staying in, he means. Not his room. Because it’s not. It’s just a room in a house that belongs to the -

His best friend. Just a room in a house that belongs to his best friend.

Completely oblivious to the thoughts racing around George’s head, Dream just laughs and tries again with his imitation. “I literally don’t sound like that!”

His laughter follows George up the stairs and even into his room, only muffling when he closes the door firmly. Door closed, he grabs a pair of shorts from his open suitcase and switches out his sweats. It takes him a second to dig through and find his washbag, but then he ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth and run wet hands through his hair. It doesn’t look  _ great,  _ but it’s likely to get wet anyway - either from the seawater or just from sweat because the temperature is still horrifically unforgiving.

He has just pulled his t-shirt over his head when a knock on the bedroom door startles him.  _ Please don’t come in. Please don’t come in. Please don’t come in,  _ he chants in his head as he tries to find a t-shirt buried in all the junk in his suitcase.

“Coming!” he calls.

“That’s cool, man,” Dream replies with a laugh. “We got time, I just wondered if you want food? You haven’t eaten yet.”

_ Huh,  _ George thinks.  _ No, I haven’t.  _ Unsure why he didn’t realise before, he calls back, “Yeah, I could eat.”

“We’ve got leftover pizza. Does that sound good?”

George’s bare stomach rumbles. “Pizza sounds great.”

“Awesome, we can take some with us,” Dream says, his voice echoing slightly as he heads back downstairs. George lets out a breath and shakes his head. It was stupid for him to be so stressed, it wasn’t like they’d never seen each other shirtless before. Dream regularly calls George from his bed, barely awake, shirtless and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. So why did the thought of Dream seeing him make his heart  _ race  _ like that? Maybe it’s the weirdness of it being in real life. Everything about being  _ in real life  _ with Dream is weird.

Trying to ignore the buzzing of electricity under his skin, George finishes getting dressed. Dream is already waiting for him by the front door when he gets downstairs, a small foil-wrapped package in his hand.

He holds it up with a grin. “Pizza!”

“Thanks, Dream.” George forces himself to return the smile. He’s not sure he manages very well if the concerned look from Dream has anything to say about it. “We good to go?”

Dream doesn’t say anything, just nods and gestures towards the door. George isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Maybe it would be better if he  _ had  _ said something. Maybe it would force George to talk. Maybe it would make the electricity under his skin go away. But no, it would be worse - because George has no idea where he would even  _ start  _ telling Dream about anything he’s feeling. He just isn’t that kind of person - the kind of person who can just  _ talk  _ to people about stuff. The kind of person that Dream is.

***

It takes no time at all for them to reach the beach -  _ partly due to Dream’s reckless driving, _ George thinks as the driver in question pulls into a parking space off the road.

“Beach time?” Dream asks softly. George nods, a grin firmly on his face. He can’t wait to see the difference between British beaches and Floridian ones.  _ Hopefully the temperature of the water,  _ he thinks,  _ and maybe the quality of the sand. _

Out loud, he says, “Beach time.”

Dream pushes the car door open and jumps out as George fumbles with his own. With a smirk, Dream pulls it open and bows exaggeratedly.

“Your highness,” he says as he holds a hand out for George to take. Bypassing the offered hand, George clambers clumsily out of the car. Dream straightens up and drags the hand through his hair. “Wow, you left me hanging.”

George shoots him a grin. “Well, yeah, I’m not your highness, I’m your majesty.”

Dream laughs, clutching at this stomach. “Of course you are, your majesty.”

“Anyway,” George continues whilst Dream keeps laughing. “Beach time.”

He hops over the low wall between the car park and the beach, the sand filling his shoes as he lands. “Urgh,” he groans, “That’s gross.”

“Well, that’s what you get,” Dream laughs as he kicks his flip-flops off and grabs them in one hand. He climbs onto the low wall and sits down, kicking gently at the sand. “For wearing trainers to the beach.”

“Wooooow,” George drags the word out as he hops backwards onto the wall. His feet hang a little off the ground even when he stretches his legs as much as he can. He catches Dream watching him and says, “What?”

“Nothing,” Dream replies quickly. “You’re just short. Guess I didn’t realise.”

“What d’you mean,  _ didn’t realise _ ?” George raises an eyebrow. “You literally already knew how tall I was.”

“Yeah,” Dream says, nudging George with his elbow. “But that’s different to seeing it in real life.”

George nods slowly. “Yeah, I get that.”

_ Too well,  _ he thinks.  _ I understand that far too well. _

After a couple seconds of silence, Dream pulls the foil-wrapped pizza out the front pocket of his hoodie. “Pizza?”

“Mmm, warm pocket pizza,” George says even as he takes a slice. They eat their pieces in comfortable silence, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore the only thing breaking it. Pizza finished and tinfoil disposed of, George kicks his own shoes off into the sand then hops down from the wall. His bare feet sink into sand, the smooth granules pushing up between his toes.

“I was right!” He whirls around and grins at Dream still sitting up on the wall. “The sand is so much better than at home!”

“Yeah?” Dream laughs as he pushes off the wall. George nods delightedly and jumps slightly on the spot, scattering the sand around his feet. Dream’s smile is almost too soft for George to look at straight on, just like the sun blazing above their heads. “You’re so cute, dude.”

“Shut up,” George replies quickly, his face flushed.  _ Thank God for sunglasses,  _ he thinks.  _ God, fuck, why do I blush so easily? _

“You wanted to paddle?” Dream says, seemingly oblivious to the thoughts racing around George’s head. With a slow blink, George nods and turns towards the gentle waves. Dream holds out his hand and, this time, George takes it. Their fingers curl together, Dream’s hand engulfing George’s smaller one as he drags him across the sand. Even just the gentle touch is enough to send George’s heart into a tailspin, but he tries desperately to focus on the sand beneath his feet and the soft sound of the waves.

Dream doesn’t let go until they reach the shoreline. He shoots a bright smile over his shoulder then rushes into the water until the waves are hitting his calves. He’s got his back to George, just standing there with his arms stretched out and his head tipped back to make the most of the sun.  _ Fuck it,  _ George thinks as he pulls his phone out the pocket of his shorts and opens the camera. He holds it up and lines it up with Dream, the sun spilling out around him like a full-body halo, accentuating his broad shoulders and -  _ God, he’s pretty. _

Image perfected, George hits the button to take the photo.

_ Click. _

Dream turns around with a grin. “You taking pictures of me, Georgie?”

George lowers his phone and his eyes, refusing to meet Dream’s warm gaze. He shakes his head.

“I think you were,” Dream continues, the smile still firmly on his face. “Come join me instead, yeah?”

With a deep breath, George nods and walks forwards until the waves lap over his bare feet. It’s nicer than the beaches back home, the water warmed by the heavy Florida heat. Dream holds out his hand until George takes the last few steps. He forgets for a second how much shorter he is than Dream and is surprised by the water hitting his knees when it only reaches Dream’s calves. The surprise is enough to make him shiver even with the sun-warmed sea. And the shiver is enough for Dream to grab his upper arms in large hands.

“Y’alright?” he asks softly, his hands resting just below the sleeves of George’s t-shirt.

George nods. “I’m fine, Dream. The water just surprised me.”

“The water? In the sea? Surprised you?” Dream laughs with one eyebrow raised. God, George isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to seeing shit like that in person.

“It’s deeper than I thought,” he says, his eyes focused on the slight waves. “It didn’t look that deep on you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, George watches Dream push his hair back with a damp hand. A few stray droplets spill down the side of Dream’s face, trailing gently over his skin.  _ Shit,  _ George thinks,  _ I’ve never wanted to be water before.  _ He shakes his head at the ridiculous thought and steps back away from Dream. He’d gotten too close, that was all. All those freckles aren’t safe for close-up viewing.

“It’s because you’re tiny,” Dream says, like George hasn’t just re-evaluated his entire life in the last thirty seconds. His hands curl around George’s arms again, but lower down this time, around his forearms instead. The touch is soft, his fingertips pressing into George’s skin just enough for him to feel. “Teeny, tiny Georgie.”

“Shut up,” George snaps, but there’s something settled in the back of his throat that he really hopes Dream misses. Given the soft smirk that Dream gives him, his hope hasn’t held. He doesn’t say anything though, so maybe he got a little bit lucky.

Instead, Dream lets his hands drop from George’s arms and swirls his fingers around in the water next to his hips. It sends the waves skittering off like Cat does when there’s a loud noise, in every direction at once like they don’t know what to do. Then he says again, like the words haven’t already embedded themselves in George’s head, “Teeny, tiny Georgie.”

_ This time, words aren’t enough,  _ George realises. “I thought,” he starts, his voice low as he dunks his hands into the water. “I told you to shut the fuck up.”

He splashes Dream then ducks away laughing before Dream can retaliate. When he glances over his shoulder, Dream is simply standing there, white t-shirt drenched through.  _ Oh, perhaps splashing him was a terrible idea,  _ George thinks, stopping suddenly. The water has turned Dream’s t-shirt translucent and George can see all the lines of his chest and his stomach and  _ holy shit, this was a bad idea. _

Dream doesn’t seem to have realised George’s staring though, he’s too busy wading through the water towards him. It’s only when he gets close enough to reach out and grab at George again that he speaks. His voice is low and dangerous like it sometimes gets during  _ Manhunt  _ recordings and it sends a spark unbidden up George’s spine.

“Two can play at that game, Georgie,” he says, hands curling not around George’s arms like he’d expected, but around his hips. Dream’s big, strong hands press into the gentle dips of George’s hips and send his brain spiralling.  _ Bad idea,  _ George thinks loudly.  _ Stupid, terrible, awful, bad idea. _

Dream doesn’t let up though, even when George wriggles in his grasp. Instead, he simply holds on tight with one hand and ducks the other under the water. A tidal wave collides with George’s chest, water spraying across his face as he sputters. His shorts are water-logged and his t-shirt sticks to his chest the same way Dream’s does.  _ Well,  _ he thinks,  _ not quite the same way. I don’t have the definition he does. _

Dream stills for a second then his hand pulls away, dragging through the water gently. “Sorry, man,” he says with a shrug, “I just - I just got carried away.”

George licks his bottom lip then shrugs. “That, it - it’s OK, Dream, it’s OK.”

Dream rubs the back of his neck and looks down at the waves. “Are you sure? George, I -”

“It’s OK,” George says in a rush. He pulls Dream into a stupidly tight hug; his arms wrap around broad shoulders and he tugs him down until he can bury his face in Dream’s neck. It takes a second, but Dream returns the hug, squeezing George against his chest, their wet t-shirts pressing together. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but George barely pays attention to it. Not when they’re so close.

“God,” Dream says into George’s hair, “I - thank you, Georgie.”

“Shut up,” George murmurs as he pulls away slowly. He lets go of Dream and steps back as the water laps at his knees. “Just, shut up, OK?”

“OK,” Dream laughs, “I’ll shut up.”

“Good.” George turns away and makes his way back to the beach. Dream catches up with him easily, slinging an arm gently over his shoulders.

“Can we take photos?” he asks. “I wanna remember this forever.”

It’s so sweet that George almost forgets to roll his eyes at the ridiculous sappiness of it. Even so, he nods and leans into Dream for a second.

“Yeah,” he says, “We can take photos.”

Dream pulls his phone out before they even reach the shore, pulling George to a halt with the water still lapping around them and flicking his camera on. He holds the phone up until they’re both in the frame and snaps a few photos. George is aware that he’s squinting in most of them - the sun is at just the right height to get in his eyes.

“You want me to take one of you and your boyfriend?” someone calls from the beach. George spots him easily. A young guy, about Dream’s age probably, with an open shirt, tanned skin and dark curls. He’s gorgeous and George can feel his cheeks flush. He expects Dream to correct him, but he doesn’t. He just wades through the last of the water and hands his phone to the stranger.

“Thanks, man,” he says before he comes back to George and returns his arm to its spot around his shoulders.

“Ready?” the guy calls and Dream nods. George tries to keep his eyes open and to paste a believable smile onto his face.

After a couple photos, Dream says, “Could you take one without my face in it? Like neck down?”

The guy shoots him a confused look then shrugs. “Sure, if you want.”

“Thanks, man,” Dream says again as he holds up a peace sign with his free hand. 

“All done,” the guy says a few seconds later. Dream wades through the water again and this time, George follows him. The loss of the water around his ankles is a shame, he’d gotten used to the warmth and the gentle to and fro. By the time he reaches them, Dream is just taking his phone from the stranger and giving him a wide grin.

“Thanks again,” he says, “really, I mean it.”

“Dude,” the guy laughs, “it’s seriously nothing. You’re cute, that’s all.”

As George reaches Dream, the guy gestures between them and adds, “The two of you, I mean. You look good together, it’s nice to see.”

“Oh, we’re n-” George starts, but he’s cut off when Dream wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close to his side.

“Well, seriously, thank you,” Dream says to the guy as he tucks his phone back into a damp pocket. “It means a lot.”

_ What the hell is he doing?  _ George thinks, trying to ignore the thumb rubbing against his hip bone. His t-shirt must have ridden up -  _ or perhaps,  _ the dangerous voice in his head suggests,  _ Dream pushed it up on purpose  _ \- because Dream is touching bare skin. The electricity is back, buzzing under his skin at every point of contact between them.

With a nod, the guy leaves and Dream lets George go with a gentle shove to his shoulder.

“Y’alright, loser?” he asks. “You went all quiet.”

George shakes his head then realises what he’s done and nods instead. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - what?”

“What d’you mean ‘what’?” Dream replies, walking back across the sand to the low wall. George follows him quickly, trying to ignore the feeling of the sand sticking to his feet.  _ This is why I hate the beach,  _ he thinks. Dream shoots him a smirk, leaning back against the wall and looking up from under his lashes.  _ Oh,  _ George thinks,  _ and that’s why I hate Dream. _

“I mean, why didn’t you correct him?”

Dream shrugs. “Didn’t see the point, he seemed happy and it’s not like I’m bothered. We’ve read fanfiction together George, you know I’m cool with it.”

“That’s not the same.” George is aware that his voice has risen, but he can’t control it. He just can’t control any of this.

Dream shrugs again.  _ Like this doesn’t matter,  _ George thinks,  _ like this isn’t killing me. Like I don’t matter. _

“It’s literally the same,” Dream says.

“It’s literally not,” George snaps back.

Dream’s voice goes low as he says, “Georgie, come on now.”

“It’s not the same, Dream.”

“OK,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s not the same. But it’s alright, I promise. No hard feelings, yeah?”

This time, it’s George’s turn to shrug, his shoulders shifting under the wet t-shirt as he leans against the wall next to Dream. “Yeah, whatever, no hard feelings.”

_ Holy shit,  _ he thinks,  _ I might have made a terrible mistake. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs pls come talk to me about these dumbasses xo


	5. i wanna be your favourite boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream tweets, george pines, and sapnap is Angry about being left out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is so short, i just need to actually get them moving bc otherwise the road trip portion of this fic is never going to exist
> 
> chapter title: best friend - rex orange county xo

“Which one, Georgie?” Dream says, his head hanging off the edge of the sofa and his legs slung over the back as he scrolls through his phone.

“Which what for what?” George replies as he crouches down to stroke Patches.

“Which photo for Twitter?” Dream holds his phone out for George to see, the image upside down on the screen. With a sigh, George takes the phone from him and flips it the right way up. He flicks through the photos.

Dream’s arm around George’s narrow shoulders, freckled and tanned in the sun. His face is cut off, but George is looking up at him, a small smile on his face. He looks like he’s in love. He shakes his head to banish the thought then scrolls backwards.

Both their faces are in this one. George is smiling still, but he’s looking forwards. Dream is looking down at him, his mouth pulling up more on one side than the other. He looks -

George shakes his head again, scrolling to a photo without Dream’s face in. Not the original one though, one where George is actually looking at the camera instead of at Dream. “That one,” he says. “I look good in it.”

From his spot upside down on the sofa, Dream says, “You look good in all of them.”

George doesn’t reply. Can’t reply. Can’t trust himself to reply. He isn’t sure what words might slip out, but he’s sure they wouldn’t be good. Instead, he just shrugs and sits on the floor next to Patches. He holds his hand out until she comes over to him, sniffing his palm then butting her head into it. With a sigh, he relaxes his shoulders and strokes her gently.

It’s a little while later until Dream speaks, “George?”

“Yeah?” George replies, not looking up from Patches curled in his lap.

“I tweeted it.”

“Oh.” George pulls his phone out his pocket and sees the notification at the top of his screen.  _ Taunting me _ , he thinks as he swipes up. Twitter takes a second to load and George can feel his hands start to shake. He shoves his free one under his leg so Dream doesn’t notice.

The photo is good, George was right. Dream’s caption is -

_ It’s a lot,  _ George thinks as he scans the words on the screen:

> dream @dreamwastaken
> 
> do you believe us this time?
> 
> can hardly believe it myself really, that after all this time, he’s
> 
> actually here <3 so much love to all of you who made it
> 
> possible for me to meet my best friend in the whole world

He doesn’t scroll down far enough to see the replies, but he can imagine them. A few people still refusing to believe it. One or two comments about how ridiculous George looks. Definitely some just dedicated to the lines of Dream’s body. Hoards of people congratulating them on finally meeting up. People freaking out almost as much as he did. Three words catch him, sending him into a tailspin. My best friend. My. Best.  _ Friend. _

His eyes are watery when he looks back up at Dream, who is now sitting right-side up on the sofa. “It’s great,” he says but his voice cracks slightly.

“Oh, come on now,” Dream says softly as he holds his arms out. “Hug me?”

George is on his feet before Dream finishes the first word, nodding frantically and collapsing into his arms. It takes a moment for them to get comfortable; Dream groans when George’s knee digs into his thigh and George gasps airily when Dream squeezes his hip. Eventually though, they get comfortable; George buries his face in Dream’s thin t-shirt and breathes out a sigh of relief.

He hadn’t realised how much he needed a hug. Dream’s hands run broad strokes across George’s back, fingertips just brushing the back of his neck on each upstroke. They lie like that for a while, draped over one another on the sofa, until Dream’s phone starts to buzz insistently.

Untangling an arm from around George, Dream digs his phone out and looks at the screen over George’s shoulder. “It’s Sapnap.”

George groans but goes to move away. Dream’s other arm winds more tightly around George’s waist and his voice is low when he murmurs, “No, stay.” It makes George freeze for long enough for Dream to answer the call. He doesn’t even get a word in before Sapnap’s voice comes bursting out the speaker.

“Your best friend, huh?”

“What?” Dream laughs, rolling his eyes. George giggles into his shoulder. 

“Your tweet,” Sapnap continues. “In your tweet, you called George your best friend. What the fuck does that make me then, huh?”

“God, Sap.” Dream dislodges George slightly as he sits up. At George’s unhappy murmur, he tucks him against his side instead, arm wrapping around his waist again, fingers just brushing bare skin as his t-shirt pulls up. “As if you’re upset about that. You know I love you both equally.”

_ Because you’re his friend,  _ the voice in George’s head says,  _ just his friend. Nothing else.  _ He shakes his head and tries to focus on the conversation happening next to him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dream laughs as he leans his chin on George’s head. “Alright, alright. How can I make it up to you?”

“Put him on speaker,” George murmurs. Dream does.

“Come see me, dickheads,” Sapnap’s voice comes through loudly enough that the speakerphone probably isn’t necessary. “Rather than hogging each other.”

“You want us to fly to Texas?” Dream laughs.  _ Please,  _ George thinks,  _ honestly please. Three is too many weeks to spend with just Dream. Especially if he’s going to be like this all the time. _

“Obviously not, stupid bitch,” Sapnap replies. George feels his shoulders deflate as the opportunity fades in front of him. “I want you to drive.”

“You want us to  _ drive  _ to Texas?” Dream drags his hand through his hair and tips his head back. “How is that better?”

“Come on, man,” Sapnap pushes. “It takes less than a day without stops.”

“We’re fucking stopping,” Dream laughs. “There is no way I’m driving over 1000 miles without stopping.”

“But you  _ are  _ gonna drive it?”

Dream groans, ruffles his hair again then says, “Yeah, dumbass, we’ll fucking drive it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs pls come talk to me about these dumbasses xo


	6. everyone else in the room can see it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> literally just an excuse for patches content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> patches content. that is all
> 
> chapter title: that's what makes you beautiful - one direction xo

“I’m not listening to that shit the whole drive,” Dream laughs as he looks at George’s laptop screen over his shoulder. He has _Spotify_ open, a playlist titled ‘Road Trip Classics’ in front of him. He tips his head back to meet Dream’s eyes and smiles lazily.

“You will, though,” he says, “you like me too much to say no.”

It’s close to the mark, he knows it is - far too soft and far too close to what he  _ actually  _ wants to say. Which is that, whilst he knows Dream will let him play whatever he wants, he also knows that he would turn it off if he ever asked.

“I hate that you’re right.” Dream flops backwards onto the sofa next to George and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. Patches hops off the armchair then clambers up between them. Her chin rests on Dream’s knee and her tail flicks gently against George’s hand as he types.

George lets out a sigh of relief as Dream starts to stroke her ears and murmur softly. At least he has something else to focus on. Something that isn’t the faint blush covering George’s cheeks and threatening to spill down his neck as Dream smiles at him.

“You’re alright, aren’t you, lovely girl?” Dream says to Patches. “Looking forward to your little holiday?”

“When are you going to drop her off?” George asks, adding another  _ One Direction  _ song to the playlist just to hear Dream groan then sing along regardless.

“Was thinking we could just drop her off when we leave tomorrow morning,” Dream replies, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the sofa.

“Bit unfair on your mum, isn’t it?” George laughs. “If we’re leaving pretty early.”

Dream shrugs again. “Yeah, guess. Maybe I’ll drop her off tonight then. You wanna come with?”

“Meet your mum?” George is aware that his voice cracks halfway through, he just hopes that Dream doesn’t notice it.

“You don’t have to,” Dream says quickly.  _ Of course he noticed. As if he  _ wouldn’t  _ notice.  _ “I mean, if you don’t want to.”

“No, I -” George starts, cutting himself off to run a hand through his hair. It’s constantly sticky in Florida, pasting his fringe to his forehead and dampening his t-shirts. “I wanna come. It’ll be fun.”

***

“Hiya, honey,” Dream’s mum says as she opens the door. She pulls Dream into a tight hug then takes the cat carrier from him. Once Patches is placed down just inside the doorway, she turns her attention to George. “And hello to you!”

“Hi,” he replies, his voice barely even audible to himself and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. It’s just a lot. Meeting Dream’s mum is a lot. “It’s - it’s lovely to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too, honey,” she says, holding her arms out for a hug. He swallows then steps forwards into the circle of her arms. As he wraps his own arms around her shoulders loosely, she squeezes him.  _ God,  _ he thinks,  _ no wonder Dream hugs like he does.  _ She lets go after a few seconds, holding his arms in her hands, and says, “Dream talks about you all the time.”

“Mom,” Dream says, dragging the word out like a teenager. George bites his tongue as he grins over at him.

“Talk about me, do you?” he asks, but it’s not really a question.

Dream just rolls his eyes then shrugs. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Now it’s George’s turn to blush and look away.  _ I hate that he can do that, just turn it around on me like it’s nothing. _

Dream’s mum scoffs and steps back, picking up Patches’ carrier and taking her through to the living room.

Dream catches George’s arm and turns him around. “You alright?”

George nods and tugs his arm gently out of Dream’s grasp. “Fine, I promise.”

“Promise-promise?”

“Promise-promise,” George laughs, nudging Dream’s shoulder with his knuckles. “You loser.”

With a grin, Dream pushes past him into the house, calling out to his family as he goes. Drista comes barrelling down the stairs, flying at Dream and hugging him tightly.

“Is George here?” George overhears as he closes the door behind him.

Dream sighs, “You care more about GeorgeNotFound than your own brother?”

“Well, duh,” Drista says, her voice deadpan in the same way Dream does when he’s making a stupid joke.

“Wow, nice to know you care,” Dream laughs. George watches as Drista holds her fists up in an imitation of a fighting stance. Dream playfully punches her shoulder then ruffles her hair.  _ God,  _ George thinks,  _ it’s great to see them together in real life. Even if it is a lot. _

He coughs slightly to clear his throat then holds his hand up in a wave. “Hi.”

“Hi GeorgeNotFound!” Drista shouts over Dream’s shoulder. “How is it hanging out with my dumbass brother?”

“It’s pretty good,” he says. “When he’s not being a bitch.”

“Wow,” Dream laughs, dragging the word out again as he slings an arm over George’s shoulders. “That’s a lie, you love me.”

Drista rolls her eyes and pretends to gag. “God, you’re gross.”

“Shut it, dork,” Dream shoots back.  _ He acts like such a teenager around his family,  _ George thinks. It’s a nice reminder that, no matter how grown up Dream seems sometimes, he’s still a dork. Regardless of the fancy house and the nice car and the -

“You do love me, don’t you, Georgie?” Dream’s voice drags him out of his thoughts.

George hums, “Do I? Are we sure?”

“Ouch, Georgie, you wound me.” Dream presses the back of his hand to his forehead as he pretends to swoon. George looks at Drista and they roll their eyes in sync.

“Idiot,” George murmurs.

“You boys staying for dinner?” Dream’s mum says as she comes into the corridor, Patches trotting along behind her.

Dream shakes his head, “We should head out, still have to finish packing.”

“Goodness me, Dream,” she laughs. “You’re meant to be leaving when?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he says, his eyes on the floor, “which is why I need to finish packing.”

“Alright,” Dream’s mum says, coming forwards to give him a hug. “You two head home, get packing. Make sure you do eat though.”

“We will, I promise,” Dream says into his mum’s hair.

“Good boy,” she says as she pulls away. “Now say bye-bye to Patches.”

“Yes, Mom,” Dream replies as he sinks to the floor and holds a hand out for Patches to sniff. When she comes over to him, he scoops her up into a hug and nuzzles against her fur. “Love you, sweetheart.”

_ God,  _ George thinks,  _ that’s a lot.  _ He swallows audibly and looks away, pinning his eyes to the floor, following the curves of the wooden slats to stop himself from staring. When Dream says his name, he glances back. His eyes meet Drista’s for a second and her own narrow like she’s looking through him. He darts his eyes away, catching sight of Dream looking up at him. 

“You wanna say bye?” he asks softly. George feels one side of his mouth quirk up as he nods.

“Sure.” He joins Dream on the floor and reaches out to stroke Patches’ ears. His voice is soft when he says, “Bye-bye, Patches, bye-bye.”

Even if it’s only been a few days, he’s going to miss her. He can only imagine how Dream is feeling.

“You ever been away from her?” he asks gently, nudging Dream’s knee with his knuckles.

“No, not really,” Dream replies. “Gonna miss her.”

Not sure what to say, George settles for pressing his shoulder against Dream’s. It’s clearly the right thing to do, he gets a small smile in return and Dream pressing back.

“Thanks,” he murmurs before dragging a hand through his hair and depositing Patches back down. “OK,” he says, pushing himself up off the floor then reaching down to grab George’s hand, “time for us to head off.”

He pulls George up then slings an arm over his shoulders. “Thanks again, Mom. It’s only for a little while, I promise.”

“Don’t you worry at all,” she replies, a soft smile on her face as she looks between the two of them. “You two have fun.”

“Oh,” Dream says with a grin as he squeezes George’s shoulders, “I’m sure we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs pls come talk to me about these dumbasses xo


	7. you fell asleep in my car, i drove the whole time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they actually leave for the road trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, am i right? and that tag finally comes into play
> 
> also sorry it's short again - i promise the next few are gonna be longer
> 
> chapter title: tear in my heart - twenty one pilots xo

It’s still dark when Dream knocks on George’s bedroom door. He wakes up slowly, stretching his arms above his head as he sits up.

“Hey, Georgie?” Dream asks, his voice soft. “You awake?”

“Just ’bout,” George murmurs, barely loud enough for Dream to hear. The door cracks open and Dream’s head pops around the frame.

“You want a coffee before we head off?” he asks softly. George groans and shakes his head. The duvet slips slightly and George can see the exact moment Dream realises George slept shirtless. He coughs politely then looks down at the floor. In George’s defense, it’s hot as hell in Florida  _ and  _ he’s only just woken up.

“I really don’t,” he says finally and Dream nods.

“I’ll grab a flask then,” he says. “You can drink it on the road if you fancy.”

George groans and nods into the curve of his arm where he’s tucked his face in embarrassment. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll be in the other room, OK? Just give me a shout when you’re ready to go.”

Once the door clicks shut behind Dream, George stretches again then drags himself out of bed. He changes quickly, pulling on a t-shirt and a crumpled pair of jeans. With a quick glance at the bathroom mirror, he splashes some cold water on his face then fixes his hair.  _ Good enough,  _ he thinks with a shrug.

The overnight he’s taking to Sapnap’s is resting next to the bedroom door, so he grabs it as he passes, letting the door fall shut behind him. When he reaches the living room, Dream is draped across the sofa with his feet hanging over the arm in his iconic green hoodie. He lifts a flask in a lazy greeting and grins.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

George squeezes his eyes shut. He’s excited really; he’s just tired. It’s early. Really early. Like the sun has barely risen early. How Dream has so much energy at this time will never cease to amaze George. Just another amazing thing about his amazing best friend.

“Ready to go,” he says finally.

Dream swings his legs off the sofa and stands up in one graceful movement. “Awesome, let’s head off then.”

He grabs his own bag from next to the sofa and gestures for George to go first. The way Dream bounds towards the car reminds George of a Labrador and he can barely hold back his quiet laughter. He hides the giggles behind his hand then chucks his overnight bag into the boot of the car once he reaches it.

“Why are you so awake?” he groans as he slips into the passenger seat. Dream shoots him a grin.

“Excited,” he says as he puts the car into reverse and backs out of the driveway.

“Even so,” George replies as he curls into his seat and grabs the aux cord to plug his phone in. He scrolls through his carefully-curated playlist and picks a chill song, turning the volume down to a gentle lull. “It’s  _ so  _ early.”

Dream shrugs. “I like the morning. It makes me happy.”

“Wow,” George murmurs, “you’re the lamest person in the world.”

“But you love me so it’s OK.”

George hums but doesn’t say anything else. Dream doesn’t need to know how true his statement is. Instead, he kicks his shoes off into the footwell then tucks his socked feet up onto the seat. Curling in on himself, he focuses on the music filling the car and Dream’s bobbing head as he drives.

“You gonna put it into the  _ SatNav  _ or just drive?” George asks. His parents are big fans of the old school map, so he’s used to long drives with very little information for him to follow along from the backseat.

“Pretty certain I can get us out of Florida, but maybe after that?” Dream says as he navigates them towards a freeway -  _ or whatever it is they’re called in this country,  _ George thinks. He hadn’t really thought about how much was different until he actually got here and realised all the stupid words they used for things. Oblivious to the sleepy thoughts in George’s head, Dream continues, “You can sleep if you want. Don’t feel like you have to keep me company.”

“I want to, though,” George tries to say, but the words are broken by a yawn. Dream shoots him a quick sideways grin and raises an eyebrow.

“Sleep, Georgie,” he says gently, letting go of the steering wheel for a second to nudge George’s side through his thin t-shirt. Eyes falling closed, George groans and squirms away, the bare skin of his arm scraping against the rough seat lining.

“Fine,” he murmurs as he bats Dream’s hand away. Once both of Dream’s hands are firmly back on the steering wheel, he relaxes slightly, turning his head into a slightly comfier position. It’s still not that comfy though and he groans and shifts again, turning his whole body over to rest against the window.

George hears rustling behind him and then something is draped over his body. It’s heavy and warm and -

Dream’s hoodie.

It’s Dream’s hoodie.

He freezes underneath it and murmurs, “Dream?”

“I just - I thought you could stick that on,” Dream says quickly, “put the hood up, lean on that? Might be comfier than the window, I thought.”

“Oh.”

George doesn’t really know why he’s surprised. It’s  _ so  _ Dream. But he is - surprised, that is. Maybe it’s just because he’s not used to this kind of friendship. Like, yeah, Dream is always like this but that’s one friendship out of all the ones he’s had in his 24 years. Not exactly a majority.

With a shake of his head, he shifts until he can pull the hoodie over his head. The hemline pools comfortably around his waist and the sleeves hang over his hands. He curls his fingers around the cuffs and tucks his chin into the neckline. It smells warm and sort of woodsy - it must be Dream’s shampoo, or shower gel, or cologne or -

“You comfy?” Dream asks with a laugh. But the laugh is soft and as warm as the hoodie, so George just lets himself melt into it.

“Yeah,” he replies as he pulls the hood over his hair and tucks his face into it. The scent is even stronger here -  _ shampoo, then  _ \- and George can feel himself falling asleep. He curls back up on his seat and leans his head back against the window. 

The padding of the hood helps to alleviate the chill of the window and the feel of his head bouncing against it. With the music playing softly in the background, George lets his eyes fall closed and sinks into the hoodie just a little more. 

“You sleep for a bit,” Dream says gently as he drives. “I’ll wake you up if I see anything fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs pls come talk to me about these dumbasses xo


	8. i get too attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a road trip wouldn't be complete without some ridiculous roadside attractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: feelings - hayley kiyoko <3

George wakes up slowly as Dream nudges his arm. He blinks against the light streaming through the windows of the parked car. The only thing he can see out the windows is the grit of a car park and a small, slightly ramshackled building with a faded sign.

“I said I’d wake you up if I saw something fun,” Dream says with a grin. George turns to him and lifts an eyebrow.

“What the hell have you found?” he asks.

Dream waves through the front window and says, “See for yourself.”

George leans forward and tries to read the sign hanging over the door. It’s faded, but he can just make out the words.  _ World’s Leading Gator Centre - Where Gators are Everything and Everything is Gators! _

“World’s Leading Gator Centre?” he says slowly as he turns back to Dream. “What the fuck is one of those?”

“Where gators are everything and everything is gators, obviously” Dream replies with a grin. “Sounds great, right?”

George looks out the front window again and pulls a face. “It looks like something out of a fucking horror film.”

“I know right!” Dream grins and pushes his car door open. “You coming?”

George shrugs and waves his hand dismissively. “Sure.”

He shoves his feet back into his shoes and opens the door, scuffing the soles against the grit of the car park as he climbs out. Dream slings an arm over George’s shoulders and tugs him towards the small building. The light above the door flickers and George gestures up to it.

“Horror film,” he says drily. Dream grins and bumps his hip against George’s.

“It’ll be fun, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m always a baby.” George blinks rapidly and pouts up at him. Dream rolls his eyes and ruffles George’s hair.

“That’s true,” Dream says as he pushes the door open. A bell above them rings out and a man behind the counter looks up.

“Hiya guys,” he says with a grin. “First time to our gator centre?”

“Sure is,” Dream replies, squeezing George’s shoulders. “Gotta show this Brit a classic Florida good time.”

George rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “God, Dream, shut up.”

“Love me,” Dream says softly, bumping their hips together again.

“Never,” George replies before turning back to the guy behind the counter. “How much for two tickets?”

“18 dollars for two adult tickets,” the guy says.

“Cheers,” George says, pulling out his wallet. Dream slaps the money down on the counter before George gets a chance. “Dream! I was gonna pay.”

“Oops.” Dream flutters his eyelashes at George then takes the tickets. “Thanks, man.”

With a grin and a nod, Dream grabs George’s arm and drags him through the drapes to the main path. George pulls his hand away as soon as they reach it, looking around him at the path surrounded by tall trees and shrubbery.

“What the hell is this place, Dream?”

“It’s an alligator conservation centre,” Dream replies. “It’s sort of like a zoo, but not really. More like a rescue centre, I guess. They bring in injured alligators and take care of them until they can be released into the wild again.”

“And we are here, why?” George asks again, lifting an eyebrow.

Dream shrugs. “I thought it would be fun.”

George purses his lips and looks around again.  _ Maybe it will be fun, _ he thinks.

“Sounds great, Dream,” he says finally and it’s worth it for the massive grin that Dream shoots him. It’s wide and so bright it’s almost blinding; it’s one of those smiles that seems to overtake someone’s whole face and make their eyes shine.

It’s the kind of smile that George can’t look at for very long because it’s like looking at the sun. So instead, he drops his gaze down the map crumpled in his hands. He scans the words for something to do and comes across a list of times. Faint excitement bubbles in his stomach as he says, “There’s a talk in 10 minutes if you wanna try and catch it?”

Grin still firmly in place, Dream nods. “Sounds good to me, Georgie.”

“Don’t call me that,” George replies with an eye roll. “Idiot.”

“Aww, Georgie,” Dream coos as he slings his arm around George’s shoulders again and squeezes. “Don’t be like that.”

A spark runs up George’s back but he keeps his eyes on his feet as Dream grabs the map from his hands. After a second, Dream hums decisively and drags George along the path - in the direction of the talk, George assumes. As they walk, George lifts his eyes from the floor and takes in the centre around him, the path is fenced and lined with palm trees that stretch up to the clear blue sky. It sort of looks like something out of a film, George thinks as he takes it all in. It doesn’t take them long to reach another small building with the sign above the door:

_ Learning Centre! Learn everything there is to know about alligators! _

George laughs when he reads it. Dream grins down at him and nudges their hips together.

“Ready to learn?” he asks.

George feels a smile tugging at his lips in return. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Grin still firmly on his face, Dream drops his arm from George’s shoulders and grabs his wrist instead to drag him into the centre. It looks bigger inside, a couple rows of chairs sit pointing towards a low stage at the front. There are already a few families dotted around the room. There’s a young couple - not much older than George himself - sitting in the front row with two kids crawling over them and pulling at their hair. Then there’s an older couple sitting further back, a teenager between them wearing a hoodie and staring down at the phone in their hands.

Dream pulls him over to a couple of chairs slightly away from the others. “Excited?” he asks.

“Sure am, Dreamie,” George laughs as he slumps into the seat. Dream rolls his eyes then bumps their shoulders together.

“You’re such a bitch, Georgie.”

George hums. “Yeah, but you love it.”

“You know it,” Dream replies. “Now, shut up and pay attention, it’s starting.”

A young woman with her hair tied in a ponytail bounces on stage with a grin bright enough to rival Dream’s. “Hello and welcome everyone to the first talk of the day! You’re all up bright and early! I hope you’re excited to learn everything there is to know about alligators -”

George’s focus drifts away as she keeps talking. His attention catches - as it so often does - on Dream.  _ His profile is unfairly perfect,  _ George thinks,  _ no one is meant to look like that.  _ It’s only once Dream glances at him that he realises that he’s been staring for too long.

“Y’alright?” Dream asks in a whisper and George cringes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says as he looks away and focuses on the dirt underneath his feet. It’s those woodchip things found in children’s play parks. He had never understood why people used them, all they did was dig into his hands and -

“You sure?” Dream continues, still whispering so he doesn’t distract from the talk.

“Sure, Dream,” George says again. “Focus up, will you?”

“You focus up!”

“Dream! Shh!” George hisses with a laugh. “You’re being too loud.”

Dream glares at him and leans into his seat with his arms crossed.

***

“Did you enjoy it?” Dream asks as they walk out the learning centre. “Do you think you know everything there is to know about alligators now?”

George laughs, “Definitely. Nothing I don’t know about alligators now.”

“Brilliant.” Dream grins and George’s stomach clenches. “Anything else you wanted to see?”

George shrugs. “Don’t mind, really, anything you wanna see?”

Dream pulls the map out his back pocket and scans it. “There’s an incubation thing with baby ones, if you wanted to see that?”

“Sounds good.”

George has barely got the words out before Dream’s arm is back over his shoulders and he’s being dragged down another narrow path. The incubation room is warm, that’s George’s first thought. It’s somehow hotter than the outside. It probably has something to do with the massive heat lamps hanging over the glass containers, but regardless, George hates it. His t-shirt sticks to him and the back of his neck prickles. The back of his neck could be Dream’s fault though; his arm’s still pressed against George’s skin.

“Look at that!” Dream leans close to one of the tanks and presses his hand against it. A small creature bumps its snout against the glass. It’s an alligator, George is sure of it. Everything here is gators, so it has to be. But it’s not like any alligator George has ever seen before. Not that he regularly sees alligators at all. But he’s watched his fair share of nature documentaries and as far as he was concerned: alligators? Terrifying.

This thing? Actually sort of cute. If George forgets that it will grow up to be a 10 foot long monster straight out of  _ Jurassic Park.  _ Or something like that.

“Yeah, Dream,” he says, leaning down to look closer. “It’s pretty cool.”

“It’s adorable.” Dream turns as he says it and George’s breath catches in his throat. Dream’s face is inches from his. They’re so close that George could count every freckle scattered across the bridge of Dream’s nose. So close that he can see a patch on Dream’s jaw where he must have cut himself shaving. So close that he can smell the  _ Gatorade _ on Dream’s breath. So close that he could -

Dream stands up sharply then clears his throat with a cough.

“Anyway, you wanna -” he waves aimlessly at the room around them then walks over to a sign and starts reading intently. George blinks a few times then turns back to the baby alligator staring at him through the glass. Its beady eyes bore into him and he can’t help the feeling that he’s being looked right through.

He sticks his tongue out at it and it tilts its head. It’s almost enough to make George laugh, but the pit in his throat stops him. He straightens up and shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Found something interesting?” he asks cautiously. It feels, suddenly, like something’s broken. His voice is the kind of voice people use on small children or injured dogs. Coaxing and far more gentle than George typically is with anyone.

Dream nods. “Yeah, did you know that only one in five hatchlings will make it to adulthood?”

“Dream,” George sighs, “that’s a horrible fact.”

Dream shrugs. “That’s life, I guess. Sometimes everything goes to shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs pls come talk to me about these dumbasses xo


	9. are we destined to be friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> having Emotions at the gator centre - not exactly george's finest moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: be around me - will joseph cook <3

The sun is high in the sky by the time they emerge from the incubation centre and George’s t-shirt sticks to his back. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to being this sweaty. _How does_ _Dream_ deal _with it?_ George wonders as he glances over at him. There’s not a sweat patch in sight as Dream pushes his hair back off his face. Not fucking fair.

“You wanna grab a drink?” he asks and George nods.

He’s glad that the weirdness from before is gone - at least, it’s mostly gone. He still feels a little weird about it - why _had_ Dream reacted so badly? Or not badly, that wasn’t fair, just... strangely, maybe? _Yeah,_ George thinks, _it was a strange reaction._ Like he couldn’t get away from George fast enough when normally he’s trying to take up as much of George’s personal space as possible.

It was just strange.

George blinks, he’s meant to be answering a question. He thinks the sun is making him stupid. Or maybe Dream is.

“Yeah,” he says finally, far too late, “a drink sounds good.”

“Awesome.” Dream turns on his heel and heads down one of the winding paths. He must have seen a sign that George has missed. With a shrug, George follows him. At least, he hopes Dream knows where they’re going. Maybe he should just -

“You know where we’re going, then?”

Dream shrugs, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he walks. “Not really, just thought we’d probably find somewhere.”

Oh. George stops in the middle of the path.

Maybe the weirdness isn’t gone then.

“Do you wanna maybe check the map?” he tries.

It takes a second, but Dream pauses. Doesn’t say anything this time, just shrugs again.

“Dream,” George says, coming to stand next to him and reaching a hand out. He doesn’t touch, just lets Dream know he’s there. “Let’s look at the map. There’s got to be a cafe around here or something. What d’you say?”

He hates how uncertain his voice sounds, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He just needs to make sure they’re all right.

Finally, Dream nods. “Yeah, OK.”

He pulls the map out his back pocket again and holds it out to George. Their fingers brush momentarily as George takes it and Dream draws his hand back with a wince. Even though he can feel his cheeks warm with embarrassment, George doesn’t say anything this time either. _It’s not worth it,_ he thinks, _I can’t fuck this friendship up. At least, not more than I must have done already._

It’s a weird situation, just in general, to finally meet him in person after years of talking online. After years of late night conversations and stupid internet flirting. To go from that to, well, _this_ \- is a shock to his system, to say the least.

With a small shake of his head, he unfolds the map and scans it quickly.

“There’s a cafe near the entrance?” It comes out more like a question than he’d planned for it too, but Dream perks up slightly.

“Is there a gift shop?” he asks, his grin almost back to full brightness.

George checks the map again. “Yeah, Dream, there’s a gift shop.”

Dream does a little dance in the middle of the path then shoots George a grin. “Awesome, gift shops are the best.”

“Cafe first, okay?” George laughs as he struggles with the map. Dream holds out a hand and George passes over the fluttering paper. With a scoff, Dream folds it deftly until the cafe is in the centre of the map before handing it back. George bites his lip then says, “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” Dream says with a grin before gesturing at the path. “After you.”

***

The cafe is small and a little run-down, but the air-conditioning is blasting out cold air and George doesn’t want to be anywhere else. The lady at the counter had waved them in and told them to take a seat wherever they wanted. Dream had dragged George over to a table by the window that looked out at the path. The same family from the talk are sitting on the other side with empty plates in front of them.

After a few moments, the lady from behind the counter bustles over to them and hands them a menu each. “Here you go, darlin’s, you take all the time you need.”

George has barely gotten his thanks out by the time she’s gone, collecting the plates from the family and wiping the tables down. He turns back to his menu and glances over the top of it at Dream.

“What would you recommend?” he asks.

Dream shrugs then, a second later, sighs and says, “Sweet iced tea, probably. You’ll like it.”

“Promise?” George says, fluttering his eyelashes. It’s a risky move, but he isn’t sure what else to do. He just wants everything to go back to normal.

It sort of works; he catches a glimpse of a smile on Dream’s face, but it vanishes quickly.

Instead, Dream shrugs again. “Eh, probably.”

_Well,_ George thinks, _it’s better than nothing._ He scans the rest of the menu and his eyes stop on something awful.

“What the fuck is an alligator burger?” he hisses, leaning across the table and pulling Dream’s menu down slightly. “Why are they selling that here?”

“It’s not uncommon,” Dream replies like it’s nothing.

“But, but -” George shudders, “we just saw baby ones!”

“Yeah?” Dream says it like a question. “No one eats baby ones.”

“But you do eat the adults?”

“Well -” Dream shrugs for a third time. “ _I_ don’t. But people do, yeah.”

George shudders again. “Urgh, that’s weird.”

“Why is it any weirder than like, beef? Or pork?” Dream laughs, leaning back in his chair until it tips onto two legs.

“Because I don’t usually have to see the baby ones before I eat those!” George shoots back and Dream laughs again.

“So that’s the only issue?”

George shakes his head. “It’s also just weird!”

Dream grins. “You’re weird.”

The tension in George’s shoulders dissipates at the sight of it and he falls back against his seat. “Okay, you win. Maybe it’s not that weird, but I still definitely don’t want to eat it.”

“You boys ready to order?” the lady asks, tucking the tea towel into the waistband of her apron as she comes back over.

Dream nods. “Sure are, ma’am.”

“Lovely,” she says with a smile. “What can I get for y’all then?”

“Can we get two sweet teas and a basket of fries to share, please?” Dream asks. The lady’s smile turns to a bright grin and she taps his shoulder.

“Of course you can, lovely. “ She turns to George and adds, “This one’s a keeper.”

Face flushed, George stutters out, “Oh no, we’re not -”

“Oh, you’re British!” the lady coos. “What a treat! Maybe you’re both keepers, hey?”

George attempts to correct her again, but Dream cuts in.

“He certainly is, ma’am,” he says, fixing George with a dopey grin, “can’t speak for myself. What would you say, Georgie?”

If his face was pink before, now it’s bright red as he chokes the words out, “Yeah, sure, he’s great.”

“And don’t you forget it!” the lady says with another grin as she heads back behind the counter.

The grin on Dream’s face hasn’t budged and, if anything, it looks even dopier and sweeter than it was before. “I’m great, am I?”

George rolls his eyes. “You know you are, idiot.”

***

“Come on!” Dream grabs George’s hand as soon as they exit the cafe and drags him down a shaded path. “Gift shop time!”

George lets himself be pulled along. Anything to keep that smile on Dream’s face. _God,_ he thinks, _maybe I’m even more of a simp than he is._ Dream glances over his shoulder and his grin broadens momentarily, becoming almost blinding and George has to look away.

His eyes catch on the entrance to the gift shop - a giant, plastic alligator is somehow suspended over the door. It hangs low enough that Dream has to duck to get under it as they head in. Once they’re inside, Dream drops George’s hand and darts over to the shelves to inspect all the touristy shit available.

“We should get something for Sap!” he calls over his shoulder as he digs through a rack of alligator-themed t-shirts.

George rolls his eyes behind Dream’s back but, out loud, he says, “Sure, Dream, if you can find something he’ll like.”

Dream straightens up, a bright yellow t-shirt in hand and an evil grin on his face. “He doesn’t have to like it.”

He shakes the t-shirt out and holds it up. There’s a vinyl print of an alligator in the centre of it with the words _‘Gators gonna gate’_ slapped across the front.

“What do you think?”

George laughs. “I think it’s hideous.”

“Perfect, right?” Dream refolds the t-shirt before tucking it over his arm and moving on. He grabs a hat off the stand and pulls it on his head. The corks on strings hang in front of his grinning face. “How about this?”

“You are a ridiculous man,” George says, but he can’t keep the smile off his face as he watches Dream rifle through the options. Suddenly, a hat is pulled down over his ears. Dream steps back and laughs, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“Stay right there,” he says as he holds his phone up and takes a couple of photos. “You look amazing.”

“Dream!” George snatches it off his head and inspects it. A baseball cap, but not like anything he’s ever seen before. It’s denim, to start with. And has a diamante alligator stuck just above the brim. The tiny silver rhinestones even glint in the light. It is the most ridiculous thing George has ever seen in his life and he laughs out loud at the sight of it.

“I’m buying it for you,” Dream says quickly. “I don’t care what you say.”

“I hate you.”

Dream grins, grabbing the hat from George and hooking it on one finger. “No, you don’t.”

_Sometimes,_ George thinks, _I wish I did. Life would be so much easier._

But Dream’s right. George doesn’t hate him. Couldn’t hate him. Doesn’t even really _want_ to hate him. Actually, he would really like to be able to -

He shakes his head. Not the time for thoughts like that.

“Okay, fine,” he says instead, “but you need something awful too.”

“Naturally,” Dream replies, returning to the rack of t-shirts.

“And I get to pick it,” George adds.

Dream nods. “Even better.”

Determined, George turns back to the hat stand and turns it slowly, taking in all the options. After a few moments of looking, he lifts up a cap similar to his own. As he looks it over, his eyes catch on the hat that was hanging underneath it. He lets out a laugh and grabs for it. The purple snapback has a stiff orange brim and a vinyl alligator similar to the one on the t-shirt Dream picked for Sapnap.

_Serves him right,_ George thinks with a grin.

“Found it!” he says, ducking behind Dream and rising onto his tiptoes to shove the hat onto his head. “It’s perfect!”

Dream laughs and whirls around, almost tripping over his own feet. His hands catch on George’s hips to stop himself and they both freeze. After a second, Dream snatches his hands back and coughs into a curled fist. George swallows and runs his own hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” Dream chokes out, “it’s great. We should go pay.”

“Dream, you didn’t even -”

“You picked it,” he says quickly, “so it’s bound to be great.”

George nods. He follows Dream up to the counter and watches as he places the t-shirt and the denim cap down. He watches as Dream pulls the hat off his own head. He watches as Dream’s mouth quirks up on one side and he lets out an almost-laugh.

“I was right,” Dream says. He doesn’t look back, but he does hold the hat up so George can see it. “You chose good.”

_Yeah,_ George thinks, watching Dream’s shoulders shift as he pays for the pile in front of him. _I really did choose good, didn’t I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs - come and hang out, i have Opinions <3


End file.
